


there'll be sweetness on our tongues

by fracturedvaels



Series: there's no patron saint of silent restraint [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, PWP, vague whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:44:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/pseuds/fracturedvaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Theirin," Cullen's fingers tighten in his shirt. He tries to sound annoyed but it's inauthentic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there'll be sweetness on our tongues

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by sweet caroline. please let me know if there's any errors in the comments.

Cullen is already stripped to his pants and readying for bed by the time Alistair sneaks into his room. Alistair is not good at sneaking, but Cullen pretends to not hear him climbing up the ladder to his room or trying to sneak up behind him. Alistair knows better than to assume he's sneaky or clever, so he doesn't joke about it, just wraps his arms around Cullen's waist and begins kissing his neck.  
  
"Theirin," Cullen's fingers tighten in his shirt. He tries to sound annoyed but it's inauthentic.  
  
"Mmmm, commander, you smell _amazing_ ," Alistair reaches up and takes hold of Cullen's shirt, pulling it free and tossing it to the other side of the bed. "Is that a new perfume? You smell like - "  
  
"Stop." Cullen turns to face Alistair. The Warden puts his hands on Cullen's hips and leans in for a kiss - a deep kiss - hungry and romantic and longing. Cullen lets Alistair pull their hips together, grinding against him. He hasn't realized how sensually starved he was.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He murmurs against Alistair's lips. His old friend pulled away a little and began stripping off his own armor, leaving bits and pieces at their feet. Cullen moves back to give him space and sits down on the bed, waiting patiently.  
  
"The Inquisitor needed my help, apparently, and so did Hawke." When Alistair is down to his pants, he steps towards Cullen. The ex-Templar puts his hands on the other man's hips and waits to see what he'll do or say. When Alistair's own hands go to loosen the ties on his pants Cullen takes over immediately, muscle memory taking over as he loosens the knot and pulls Alistair's pants down his thighs. Alistair's cock is still soft between his legs, but Cullen scoots forward and immediately takes him into his mouth.  
  
Alistair's rough hands are surprisingly gentle. He lays one on Cullen's left hand - now back on Alistair's hip - and puts the other on the back of his head. Cullen's hair is softer now that it's washed, the curls are beginning to come back. "Missed you," he whispers. "We both have. After Kirkwall - didn't know if you were okay - " Alistair puts both his hands on Cullen's head and takes over the pace, stopping when Cullen's cheeks start turning red.  
  
Cullen's breathing isn't so labored that Alistair feels bad. "Do you have anything we could use for...?"  
  
"Under the bed, I think." Cullen runs a shaky hand through his hair as Alistair gets down on his hands and knees to fetch the small glass flask.  
  
When Alistair stands back up, he uncaps the flask and takes one of Cullen's hands, pouring a generous amount of oil into the man's palm. He caps the flask and drops it next to Cullen's lap before guiding the commander's hand towards his half-hard member. Alistair takes advantage of Cullen's busy hands and free mouth to play with the soft blond curls and check in. He cups the commander's cheek and runs his thumb over the scar on Cullen's upper lip with a small amount of concern. "This is new," he observes.  
  
Cullen shrugs. "I got attacked," he says uneasily, accepting Alistair's fingers into his mouth as a means to keep from discussing the matter further.  
  
"You got - _Maker's_ breath!" Cullen smirked with pride when Alistair pulled his fingers from his mouth but touched his scar again. "You've been practicing."  
  
"I had time," Cullen suggests nonchalantly. He says it as though he's not roiling inside, scared Alistair will pry into it more. Alistair seems to have developed tact, though, and accepted Cullen's silence as an answer. He's completely hard by the time he pulls away from Cullen and tells him, "This is maybe the part where we get undressed."  
  
"Oh," Cullen scoots back farther onto the bed and lays down, putting his feet on the edge and lifting his hips to push his pants off. Alistair is crawling over him before they even hit the floor, biting into his shoulder and growling playfully into his ear.  
  
Alistair reclaims the glass flask and sets about preparing Cullen. The commander takes the chance to distract himself from initial discomfort by asking, "Where's your sweetheart?"  
  
Alistair uses his free hand to stroke Cullen's outer thigh as he works him open. "Special mission, top secret, no one outside the Wardens can know. I'll tell you when we're done, yeah?" Cullen laughs softly, and Alistair peppers his stomach with kisses. "Warden business always tends to kill the mood."  
  
He pulls his fingers free and sits back on his knees. Cullen spreads his legs apart, feeling Alistair slide between them; he lets the Warden, his would-be king, take complete control over the situation. Alistair is quiet as he takes himself in hand, and slides himself in. He's slow but controlled and so, so gentle - softness is something that Cullen's life has been sorely lacking.  
  
Alistair puts one hand on Cullen's hip and the other near his head, letting Cullen wrap his own arm around Alistair's. Cullen puts his free hand on the back of Alistair's neck and pulls his friend in for a kiss. Just like with the thrusts, Cullen allows the other man to take control of the situation. It's nice to let go, to let someone else be in charge, and Alistair has an infectious lust that makes Cullen's skin tingle and stomach tighten.  
  
Alistair is very different from what Cullen remembers. They weren't close in the Order but back then Alistair was always joking, always troublesome. But he was _sweet_ , and Cullen recalled him being reluctant and shy when it came to anything about sex. Cullen wasn't much better either, especially around the older boys who were always more experienced and always more pushy about matters.  
  
Alistair is stronger, a more solid body pressed against his, and he's grown _so much_  in the ten years they've known each other. There's still an incredible amount of sweetness in him - in his kisses, in the way he strokes Cullen's face, and the way his hips roll. He's practiced, and it goes great with how pliant Cullen is.  
  
Alistair pulls out of him suddenly and moves back. "Sit up. On your knees," he orders. Cullen complies, both of them moving around until Cullen's back is to his headboard and Alistair isn't in danger of falling off the bed if he leans a little farther back. Alistair moves until there's little space between Cullen and the headboard, then opens his arms and says, "Come on, let's continue, yeah?"  
  
His breathless exuberance excites Cullen and he crawls into Alistair's lap and puts his hands on Alistair's shoulders to keep steady. "If you make a 'riding the Bull' joke," the rest of his threat is lost in a sharp gasp as Alistair helps guide him back onto his cock. One strong arm goes around his waist and the other his shoulders; Cullen wraps his own arms around Alistair's neck and head and buries his face into the Warden's hair.  
  
"Fuck," Cullen whines, nails digging into Alistair's skin. It becomes harder for him to control his moans. Alistair keeps his thrusts and pace inconsistent, going slow then fast, simply rolling his hips to deep and hard thrusts. Every time Cullen thinks he's close Alistair changes and throws him for a loop.  
  
Eventually he stops again. "Off," he orders, sounding far more breathless than he had the first time they changed positions. "Face - face the board. Lean on it." Cullen does as he's told quickly, and Alistair is not slow about entering him again. He puts one hand over one of Cullen's on the headboard for balance, and the other arm around Cullen's hips this time, taking his cock in hand as he fucks him. "Maker's breath, you're beautiful," Alistair buries his face into the base of Cullen's neck and bites down hard. The bite, combined with Alistair's words and a few well timed thrusts, leaves Cullen crying out loudly as he cums.  
  
He's still flush with euphoria when Alistair follows his lead, buried deeply inside Cullen's body. Alistair - the lucky bastard - hides his own moans in Cullen's skin as he does.  
  
Alistair moves first, after a minute. He's still shaky and doesn't go far, just sits back before opening his arms and beckoning Cullen to come to him. The commander moves quicker than he should and finds himself collapsing backwards into the Warden's arms, his body still wracked by tremors. He doesn't know if he's nervous - though how could he be, after what they just did - or if he's spent, or even of his body is preparing for painful muscle spasms.  
  
"You alright?" Alistair asks quietly. Cullen nods but finds he can't relax - he can't sleep in his bed, not while it's still dirty. He voices this to Alistair who nods and kisses him, and tells him to wait a few moments, says, "Let me catch my breath first.  
  
True to his word Alistair recovers a lot quicker than Cullen does. He helps Cullen sit down at the foot of the bed and stands up, asking, " I don't suppose you have any clean sheets?"  
  
"In the trunk." Cullen closes his eyes and listens to Alistair moving around. Cullen tries to help with clean up but Alistair makes him sit still - on the floor, of all places - while he changes out the blanket and sheets and cleans Cullen's spilled fluids. He even goes as far as to leave, in just his pants, to fetch a bucket of water. Alistair _does_ let Cullen clean himself, mostly, washing the sweatiest parts of himself off.  
  
Alistair leaves the bucket and soiled bedclothes near the ladder and helps Cullen into bed. Despite what had just transpired neither is particularly tired, and once they're snuggled together under the sheets, Alistair asks, "So, what happened to the roof?"  
  
"Huh? Oh," Cullen closes his eyes. "It was like that when I moved in." He let his fingers dance on Alistair's chest while he focused on answering. "I enjoy the view. It's lovely."  
  
"The view certainly is lovely," Alistair echoes. When Cullen turns his head to look at him, hoping for a kiss, Alistair is looking right at him. "You are incredible."  
  
  
Cullen gives him a weak and unassured smile, taking his kiss anyway. "You still haven't told me where Mahariel is," Alistair takes one of his hands and tangles their fingers together. "Are you sure he won't be angry?"  
  
"Probably that we had fun without him." Alistair laughs. "Anyway, I did say he'd gone a bit away...well. We were talking about a year ago, about finding a cure for the taint. He thinks he may have found something that could prevent the Calling. I... don't know how successful he'll be." He clicked his tongue. "But he's always been driven. My darling. I hope he's safe."  
  
"Do you keep in touch?"  
  
"Oh, indubitably. We write the _sauciest_ letters. They'd make Leliana blush. Or Morrigan," Alistair laughed harder at that thought. "Oh, the sight of that..."  
  
Cullen smiles, but doesn't laugh. After a few minutes in silence he changes the subject, "Will you be gone in the morning?"  
  
"Oh, most likely. Investigating the disappearance of the Wardens with the Inquisitor." Alistair begins rubbing his hand up and down Cullen's back soothingly. "Should be an adventure. Don't worry, if I'm gone before you wake up, I'll leave a cute little note."


End file.
